Back and Forth
by hagiga
Summary: John's wedding, where Molly and Sherlock have a little chat. Yeah and little more. Just fluffy and warm. that's all.   Idea from a drawing in this blog:
1. Chapter 1

A smile pursed its way on Molly's rosy and thin lips looking at the grinning couple across the ballroom. John Watson had swung one arm across Mary's back and a hand held her hip tenderly. They were chatting with people Molly didn't recognized, but occasionally she had the pleasure to see the happy newlywed couple simply staring at each other's eyes. A smile plastered on their mouths, sometimes gently pressing foreheads together and giggling in delight.

The wedding was lovely. Wasn't too much, no matching dresses bridesmaids, not matching anything really. Molly liked that, simple.

You'd think Molly would be the type of woman that fanaticized of the happy, enormous and expensive wedding, yet that wasn't the case. She grew up at a good home, very loving parents that had a good successful marriage. They fought a lot though, but it was always about silly things.

"That's how it should be..." Molly's Mother spoke from a distant memory, where she was young, holding an old black and white picture of her parent's wedding "... marrying your best friend." She said.

"A cat?" Molly murmured into the palm she held up to rest on, elbow pressing against the soft fabric covering a table. She sat and stared at the celebration, appreciating John's invitation; a little time away from the morgue is always cherished.

"Dull isn't it?" a hollow voice complained behind her. She turned around in her chair and looked up to see Sherlock Holmes. "The wedding." He explained.

She scanned the people and objects around her, both to make sure he was actually talking to her and he was actually talking about the wedding.

"Dull?" She asked.

"Yes." He said. Hands behind him, stepping closer to her in his tux. He narrowed his eyes at her waiting for either an agreement or disagreement.

She didn't know how to respond, so he continued "not much color coordination. No theme. Clearly no wedding planner, John's sister was in charge judging by the lace on the table clothes." He looked at Molly again. Then looked at what she wore.

Out of all the dresses he'd seen tonight, hers was clearly the best. Smooth, childish yellow. No lace, no bows. Simple pastel pink shoes, strawberry brown hair pulled back in an organized half ponytail and very simple silver jewelry. All the other females chose a much too revealing dress, deliberately attempting to steal the attention from the bride.

"I don't think it's dull," Molly disagreed. She saw Sherlock's eye brows knit together "...Look." she turned her head and nodded at the couple.

Sherlock fixed his eyes on his friend in the distance. Laughing and sweetly kissing his wife. The edge of Sherlock's lip curved upwards.

"I see..." he said. Molly's attention returned to the man behind her. "...so you aren't the perfect wedding planner psychopath."

Her head dropped with a chuckle "No thankfully, no."

"'Thankfully?'" asked the man.

"What can you deduct about my parents, Sherlock?" She raised an eyebrow hesitantly. Sherlock liked Molly for that. She wasn't terrified of him deducting her, she accepted the fact she wasn't perfect.

"Good parents I see," he began "Quiet early marriage. Very caring, you especially got a lot of attention from them for you were the only girl after a much older brother. Your mother was a bit disappointed at you because of the subject you chose to pursue as your career but after your father's death you two became much closer."

Molly smiled. She did love her mother but it was a struggle to argue with her on getting a job that did not involve so much gore and death.

"Fantastic marriage," she made it clear for Sherlock "they were so, so happy together. And their wedding was like this," she raised a palm to point out the wedding "simple, no wedding planner. Around 20 people came, my mother told me. They were smart, they didn't want to spend half the money people make in their life time on something like a wedding. I mean, it's just a wedding, not the ... "she stumbled upon the last word "l-love."

As he looked at her intensely the music changed. From fast, joyful tune it became a slow-tempo, silky smooth melody. Couples began gathering on the dance floor, wrapping arms over each other and swinging from side to side, round and round.

_Oh what the hell. _Sherlock thought extending his arm to the woman in the seat in front of him. "Care to dance?"

She froze. Butterflies flattering their wings and tickling her inside. Blood rushing to her cheeks. "Uh... erm..." she saw him frowning at her mumbling "Y-yes. Yes of course."

Her small hand slipped into his firm palm and his fingers wrapped around hers swiftly. She was pulled from the chair and dragged behind him toward an open spot in the crowd.

She drew a sharp breath when he planted his hand on the fabric above her hip. His skin prickled where her hand rested on his shoulder. Finally their free hands met, folding together. Then, Sherlock and Molly began pacing lightly to the romantic beat of the music, back and forth. Back and forth.


	2. Chapter 2

"Well," Mary's eyes widen "Would you look at that?"

John looked at the direction to where she tilted her head. There, across the room stood the great consulting detective Sherlock Holmes, holding in his arms the petite mousy lab-rat Molly Hooper.

"Holy-" He gasped "That- what? No..." he sighed in disbelief.

"Jealous?" Mary teased.

He rolled his eyes "Yes, absolutely. Mary, I am sorry but please before the bag of human eye-balls Sherlock threw in our apartment rots, let me run and confess my love to the greatest git ever to be considered my friend."

She giggled, kissed him and looked back at the odd couple across the ballroom "Well thank God at least someone sees the good in him more than the bad..."

John smirked, catching the detective sneaking a shy glance at the pathologist.

"Yup," he agreed "Maybe this way he'll leave us _alone_ tonight."

* * *

><p>John and Mary Watson stood hand in hand next to the entrance of the church hugging and shaking hands with the existing guests.<p>

Sherlock reached John, they took each other palms and with a grin patted each other's backs in a very brief embrace.

"Heading back to 221B?" John asked his ex-roommate.

"Sherlock exhaled and smiled at the couple "Yes I believe I am. Back to occupying a flat on my own."

John's hand patted Sherlock's shoulder "You'll be okay."

Sherlock turned to Mary "So will you."

She laughed. With another 'congratulations' Sherlock turned to leave, when suddenly (although John expected it) he turned back at them.

"By the way," the detective caught their attention "I've been wondering if you two could assist me on a new case. I do have a lead but I need some insight information about certain things I do not have much experience with, and since you two are newlyweds and by tradition on the night of the wedding you-"

"SHERLOCK." John shut his eyes and spoke in through his teeth "if you know that I won't like what you say by the end of this sentence, do warn me now so I'll have enough time to untie my shoe and throw it at your head."

Sherlock took this as a fair warning, and turned to leave.

Just as Sherlock raised an arm to catch a cab, he noticed a small woman in a yellow dress. He turned his head to see Molly attempting to hail a cab, when she finally managed to get one to stop, a much more elegant woman with bouncy red hair and a revealing red dress stepped in front of Molly and slipped into the cab.

Molly's head dropped in defeat, she wrapped her jacket around her body and began to walk home. As she passed near Sherlock, he reached an arm out and grabbed her gasped and blushed when she saw it was him.

"So are you simply going to give up to a woman that has an affair with three different man all in the same building she works in and still tries to find more satisfaction by wearing clothes that are acceptable only in strip clubs to a wedding?"

He face flushed in embarrassment.

He sighed "how far is your apartment?"

"Umm... 15 minute walk. Why?"

"I'll walk you."

"What?"

"Did you really not hear me?"

"No I-I- did. but wh-"

"Molly, honestly. Stop. With. The. Mumbling. And come along!"

He was already a few steps ahead of her, she skipped toward him and thus began the 15 minute journey with Sherlock Holmes.

* * *

><p>They hadn't talked much during their walk in the sunset lit London.<p>

Molly never had the talent of beginning or keeping a conversation going, and Sherlock's nagging about how Mary insists on throwing away the body parts he keeps in his flat were not of any assistance.

Molly was in a mental battle between enjoying being alone with Sherlock and avoiding any more irritating conversations about crime scenes, mysterious deaths and disturbing experiments which were taking place in his kitchen sink.

About 5 minutes away from her flat the conversation oddly shifted into weddings and relationships.

Sherlock was very open when beginning the conversation announcing he was never involved in any sexual activity in his life.

She was actually not surprised, she assumed that sleeping with Sherlock Holmes would end up in him giving rude critique for every single thing that happens between the sheets.

Sherlock managed to deduce her entire love life: number of boyfriends, typical relationship length, what seems to attract her and why...

Normally she would have felt hurt, but she grew thick skin after the many insults her gave her. In face, with time one may learn that it's better when someone immediately tells you the harsh truth rather than figuring it all out alone.

"The one thing I still can't put my finger on," he admitted "was what were you doing with Moriarty?"

Her face reddened "Jim? What do you mean?"

"Oh don't act innocent Molly," he quirked a brow as they came into a halt in front of Molly's apartment building "you _knew _he was gay."

She sighed in approval "yeah... Guess I did."

"Then why did you pretend to be with him?"

He mouth hung open slightly _he really doesn't know!_

She avoided the answer "I-I j- I don't really know. Been a while I guess."

He looked deeply at her "You know Molly," he reached and grabbed her hand "You deserve better."

She smiled faintly "Thank you."

He smiled and wished her goodnight, he leaned down to plant a peck on her cheek but Molly gained her confidence, turned her face and pressed her mouth to his. She was already relieved when he didn't recoil, but when he brought his hand up to gently cup her rosy right cheek and pressed his mouth back to hers, she was contented.

They both pulled each other's lips apart and pressed closer, Molly hesitantly wrapped one arm around his neck and soon the other arm followed, Sherlock slipped one hand to hold her thin hip and glided his other hand across her back, resting it on her left shoulder blade.

"mmmhmm..." Her moan brought Sherlock back to reality. He pulled back, unsatisfied with the itching sensation of his lips when the moment ended.

Molly opened her eyes a few seconds after the kiss broke, and nearly fainted in despair when she saw his blank stare. _Oh no _she though _was I THAT BAD?! _

She dropped her head, hiding the deep red flush on her entire face behind a small strand of hair.

"Molly," Sherlock began with a serious tone "Molly, look at me."

She pursed her lips and looked up into his eyes, he spoke "may I come into your flat?"

"Wh-what?"

"Alright Molly first, stop with the mumbling," she merely stared back at him "second, I shall repeat. May. I. Come. Into. Your. Flat? Molly."

She didn't dare to think much longer, Molly opened the door to her building, followed by Sherlock, and quickly began fumbling in her bag, looking for her keys.


End file.
